


Fifth Period Massacre

by space_goose



Series: Morty does bad things [4]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Ableist Language, Blood and Gore, Dark fic, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gun Violence, Mass Death, School Shootings, Splatterpunk, Trigger Warning!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_goose/pseuds/space_goose
Summary: season 4, episode 20, Morty shoots up his school.---https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ChoCa1p2jPY i found a song that goes really fuckin well with this fic, damn.





	Fifth Period Massacre

**Author's Note:**

> the columbine shooting was on April (season 4) the 20th (episode 20). this was written because i have a dark sense of humour :)

When Morty realised he could do anything he wanted with a grandpa like Rick, his mind overflowed with possibilities. It was just a random thought, just a small realisation. It wasn't meant to be anything big, but it turned sour fast. Instead of just the normal things a person could think of doing when they could do anything they wanted, his mind went straight to revenge. Honestly, who wouldn't want revenge? With the power to do anything, of course, you would want revenge.

It was more than revenge for Morty. It was more of a way to release his feelings, particularly angry and distressed feelings that he was keeping back. However, he wanted to release them through the muzzle of a firearm. He wanted to shoot his feelings at other people and make them feel what he feels. He wanted them to suffer.

On April the 20th, Morty asked Rick for a gun. Not just any gun, more of an alien laser gun-- a shotgun.

When Rick asked him "why?", the boy just smiled and said, "None of your business, but I need you to get the police off my tail in a couple hours." He didn't stutter and Rick didn't say anything else. He handed him a plasma shotgun and stayed silent.

Morty packed the gun in a duffel bag and headed to school. He waited for maths class; tossing the bag under his desk. 

Maths class was boring. Morty didn't pay attention; he waited patiently for the teacher to call on him instead.

"Morty!"

Finally.

He sat up at his desk, trying to act surprised that he was called on. No, he was happy. He was bursting with excitement, but he hid it. "Wha--"

"Solve the equation on the board."

Morty squinted at the equation on the board, faking to read it because he was really just reaching into his bag.

“Uh...” he opened the zip, stuffing his hand inside. He felt his fingers brush over a smooth metal and a smile crept upon his lips. He grabbed the handle, gripping the trigger. “Sorry, sir, but I’m afraid I will have to pass this question.”

“What?”

Morty pulled the firearm out the bag, standing up from his seat and aiming it straight at the teacher. 

“DON’T FUCKING MOVE!” He screamed, yet, not in anger. He pointed the guns at the now screaming students. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll shoot!”

The kids that were already running for the door stopped still, falling to the floor to hide under desks. One student didn’t, and Morty shot him dead before he could leave the classroom. The howl of the firearm tore through the air, but the wet tear of flesh followed right after. Six pellets of pure plasma cut through the boy’s skin, boiling his flesh with a high-pitched sizzle. It was a bloodless barrage; the heat of the impact stopped the wound from bleeding. Until his flesh started to cook, then the blood started to seep from the boils and blisters. But he was already on the floor, writhing as his body slowly died and was slaughtered from the inside.

Nobody dared move.

“I’m glad I have your attention, classmates,” he dropped the gun to his side, but his finger was still on the trigger, ready to pull it at any movement in the room. “I’m going to kill you all. You know why? Because I can. No other reasons—other than some of you absolutely piss me off.” He spotted the teacher reaching into his pocket, so he aimed the gun to his head.

Boom.

The force of the shot completely blew his face off, leaving it a red, scattered mess of boiled skin and blood. Goldenfold screamed in pain, reaching up to his head and weeping when his fingers touched the gooey melted flesh that used to be his face. Sticky strings of gore stuck to his hands as he attempted to salvage his face, but it did nothing. He blasted another barrage of plasma pellets at him, directing the shot at his teacher’s chest. The bullets tore through flesh and into organs, killing him within seconds as heat cooked his insides and caused him to bleed out internally. He fell to the floor with a loud thud.

“There are infinite versions of you. None of you are important,” he looked at Jessica. “Not even you. You’re not my original Jessica.” With a sigh, he directed the rest of his words at the rest of the class. “If you want to blame someone, blame Rick. He’s the one who taught me that no lives matter and you’re all better off dead. Anyway, this is getting boring. Die.”

He switched the gun to automatic mode, basically turning it into a submachine gun. In a swift motion, the gun was already firing a wall of bullets at the students hiding under the desks. The bullets cut through the desks and chairs, blasting even more pellets inside the victims. Plasma melted through skin and cooked children’s insides, shrivelling them up from the inside and disfiguring their skin as it boiled and deformed it. Soon, everyone in the room was either dead where they were hiding or piling up at the doorway. Jessica was there, on top of the other dead bodies. Her eyes were open, void of any emotion or life. They stared at the ceiling, glossy but still beautiful. Her orange hair was messy, tattered with blood. It was depressing but also a beautiful sight to see. People really look better when they weren't breathing.

But he ignored her. She was nothing to him now.

He stepped over the pile of bodies, stepping into the hallways. Luckily for him, the gun sounded nothing like an actual gun, so it could be easily misjudged for something else. However, students were already piling in the hallways, all panicked and crowding with each other. The smart ones stayed in the classrooms like they were meant to, hiding under desks and chairs.

These kids were dead meat.

He lifted the weapon and fired. Screams tore from those hit and those who were not. The firearm’s barrel spun viciously as its shells were released, becoming red and hot as the bombardment of bullets cut down the entire crowd. Bodies started to pile in big hurdles, and the screams were becoming a mass of one high-pitched ringing in Morty’s ears, but it sounded like music.

Soon enough, all eighty and more students in the hallway were dead. Every single one of them just added to the mountain of death in the corridor, crimson liquid pooling and flowing down the crooks and crannies of the tiled floor. All different eyes stared lifeless ahead of them, glossy and gleaming. Lips were parted open, no longer moving, just releasing streams of blood that seeped down chins and stained teeth bright red. The hallway smelt of iron, plasma, and the rich stench of cooked flesh. It stung Morty's nose as the vapors of cooking human skin wafted into it.

It looked over the hallway of death again, smiling to himself. No one's death mattered. They had infinite selves. This dimension was pointless. Everything was pointless. Maybe he could shoot himself now, but instead, he pulled his phone out and swung the gun around to his back with the strap around his chest and shoulder. He dialed Rick's number, putting the phone to his ear.

"Morty?"

"Rick, get- get here with your ship or something. The police are coming," Morty was talking fast on the verge of hysterics. His breath was so loud that Rck could hardly understand him.

"W-woahwoahwoah, calm down. What the fuck did you do?"

Morty went quiet. "Just come to the school."

"Fuck--" Rick cursed from the other line. A long groan of anger and concern rang out, followed by another stream of curses. "You fucking-- you idiot! You psycho cunt! Morty, what the fuck?!"

Morty would call him smart for figuring out what happened so fast, but even a fucking retard could figure it out, too.

"Morty, I'll be there in a second... God fucking dammit--" the phone hung up and the young boy heard a portal open up behind him. The green faded light lit up the darkened hallway, before it's colour died out and it's peaceful sound was replaced with a loud, "FUCK!" from someone behind him.

"Oops?" Morty turned around and faced his grandfather. He shrugged with a grin.

"Oops? Fucking oops? Morty! You can't just shoot up your goddamn school!"

"I just did."

"Morty there's like--" he started counting-- "100 dead children in here you fucking psychopath!" Rick impulsively stomped towards him, but stopped when Morty reached for the gun.

"Calm down, kid. Just-- just put down the gun."

Sirens started to invade Morty's ears. They were in the distance and quite far away.

"No! Get the police off my tail. You're a god. Do something helpful for once."

Rick growled, but he pulled out his portal gun with a scowl anyway. "You and I are gonna talk about this later, you hear me, dumbass? I'll lock you in an asylum if you do more of this crazy wack shit." He opened a portal on the wall. He glared at Morty with disgust before walking through.

Morty just sighed. He listened to the sirens, listening to them coming closer and closer...

He didn't even notice the lone tear that fled his eye.


End file.
